To be of the chosen despite the hungers and gnawings of flesh, to attain a spiritual union with Infinite, to die — how could physical pleasure toward which his blood cried, be compared with this?
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To be of the chosen despite the hungers and gnawings of flesh, to attain a spiritual union with Infinite, to die — how could physical pleasure toward which his blood cried, be compared with this?
“When new love plucks the falcon from his wrist,
And cuts the gyve and casts the scarlet hood,
Where is the heron heart whom flight avails?”
Ezra Pound | “Canzon: The Vision”